Escape
by rhead-a-holyc
Summary: [AU] Hermione didn't really know the world outside, beyond a brief flash of a memory, but she knew anywhere would be better than where she was. Enter Cedric. For Queen Bookworm The First


**For Queen Bookworm The First. I hope you like it!**

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She could only offer a blank glare at the nameless face that had been tasked with bringing her food, the sound of metal grating on metal as the door swung open barely eliciting a response from her anymore. Hermione didn't understand what she had done, what had been so terribly wrong with her behaviour, that forced her parents to believe they had no other option but to send her to this place.

She didn't remember much about them, only that they had to have existed for her to be there. She didn't remember their voices nor their faces, only a bright sky and a comforting hug. The rest of her memories consisted of the walls she stared at even now, with the occasional visit down the hall to the infirmary when she had been sick, but even that memory held the feeling of the cold metal against her back.

Her desire to read was certainly fulfilled, but she had little to no contact with anyone else, save the random face that took a moment to come by during meal times, and the occasional echo of a yell that came from somewhere that sounded too far away.

Perhaps she had fought too much in the beginning, and they'd decided to isolate her. Maybe they thought her dangerous. Hermione couldn't even begin to imagine whatever assessment they had made of her to result in this barren room that was truly little more than a _cell_ fit for criminals.

To Hermione's surprise, she recognised today's face. He was one of the braver ones to be coming a second time, or perhaps he was one of the stupider ones. The first group of 'doctors' had learnt, and Hermione imagined they had also warned everyone else, of just how dangerous she was supposed to be. She heard their arguments sometimes, echoing disembodied through the passage and down to her doorway. It wasn't like she wanted to see them any more than they wanted to see her.

With little else to do, she examined him. The boy was probably only a few years older than she was. His hands shook slightly, and his body was tense as if he was waiting for her to attack him, but he had a determined set to his jaw. He caught her gaze for a moment and quickly looked away, lips twitching as if his words had died somewhere on their journey past his lips.

There was a knock on the door, and Hermione knew that he would be leaving soon. He glanced at the door for a moment and uttered a weak, "I'm fine" that seemed to appease whoever was on the other side. They really did take her for a heartless killer, then. This boy hadn't done anything to her, so she didn't really see the need in harming him.

"I-I'm Cedric," the boy whispered finally, after several moments of him moving his lips with no sound. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, curious despite herself.

"Have you decided to feed the witch, too?" A loud voice came clearly from the other side of the door, and Cedric flinched. He quickly moved towards the door, but offered Hermione a quick glance before he opened the door, disappearing into the world beyond her room.

For the first time since she had arrived, Hermione put down her current book to curiously consider her most recent visitor. He was an oddity, and Hermione got the distinct impression that he would much rather be in the room with her than out there with people that Hermione could only imagine were friends and family.

With a shrug, she picked her book up again, eyes immediately tracing a path back to the spot she had stopped at. It would do her no good to puzzle over the boy while he was not there. She would have to wait for him to return to have her questions answered, if he didn't answer them himself.

Cedric didn't return to collect her utensils that day, nor did he return the day after, and Hermione had almost begun to believe that he really had been scared away by the stories of her, when he returned. He offered her a slight smile as he pushed the door open. His movements were identical to everyone else's, the silver tray with whatever was on it was placed on the table furthest from her; it was what he did next that surprised her.

His expression showed his hesitance as he approached her, but his gait was steady. He fumbled for something from his right pocket.

"Here. I thought you might like something that tastes more like, well, _food_. It's one of my favourites, so they didn't question me wanting one." Here Cedric shrugged, as if giving her something that wasn't the standard, bland food was completely normal. "Just don't let them see it. They'll know I've given it to you if they see it, and they won't allow me near you again."

"Why would you want to come back here?"

"I—"

"Cedric!"

"I've got to go. I'll see you whenever my turn comes around again."

Hermione nodded, staring at the bar of chocolate in her hand. When she looked up again, the door was already closing.

It was odd. Hermione hadn't had much contact with other people since she had arrived here, despite wanting someone to talk to. Now, there was someone who was willing to do exactly that, if only for a few minutes every couple of days, but she couldn't help but think that it was all an act.

Why? Why _now_? It seemed awfully convenient for there to be someone who didn't consider her to be the reincarnation of the devil right when the so called 'doctors' had given up on trying to _fix_ her. Hermione wanted to trust him, to be able to talk to him as she would have one of her friends before she had been sent here, but she knew better.

This solitude had allowed her to consider people and their reactions to the things they didn't understand. Cedric was only being kind to her because he didn't know what she was capable of. He would regret his kindness the moment he came into contact with her abilities, Hermione knew that much for certain, even confirming any one of the fears that lingered at the back of his mind would send him running away from her. It would leave him terrified and unwilling to return like many of the nurses that had first attempted to bring her food.

The chocolate bar was beginning to melt within her fist, and the thick ooze was beginning to press against the sides of the wrapper above her fingers. There was something else within the chocolate, Hermione realised, as the melting seemed to stop at a point where Hermione's fingers pressed into a cool surface where she should have eventually felt the palm of her hand.

Hermione quickly opened the wrapper, pulling apart the sticky chocolate mess, to find the small vial that had been tucked into the centre of the sweet. She was careful to hide the chocolate in one of her drawers, before moving to the basin to wash the chocolate off both her hands and the vial.

The paper was thicker than Hermione was used to, and the note seemed to be written in ink. It was a rather odd way to send a message considering standard paper and pen would more than suffice when the note would be protected already.

 _Prepare yourself. One week._

The note was too vague to make much sense of. What was she meant to prepare herself for? And how? What in the world would be happening in one week, and why would it involve _her_? Cedric would know. He was clearly involved in this, and had dragged her into his drama as well. For all she knew, the note may have been intended for him and had only been given to her by mistake. Hermione would make sure to tell Cedric not to return if he was going to be dragging her into all of his problems.

Despite herself, and not knowing exactly _how_ to prepare, Hermione did what little she could. The clothing she chose to wear on the mentioned date were one of her better fitting sets, as her usually baggy and loose clothing was more likely to get in the way than not. She was unable to maintain her concentration on the stream of words, and her eyes glazed past several paragraphs before she realised she hadn't understood a word.

Hermione didn't want to be disappointed, but she couldn't help the surge of hope that shot through her with every passing moment either. There were a select few reasons for anyone to make such a fuss of getting someone into this dreary building and become friendly with her. Even before she had arrived, there were few that were willing to be friendly with her, and fewer still who were willing to become her friend.

The seconds ticked closer, and Hermione opted to stare at the clock that was the only splash of colour that adorned the room. The steady ticking of the seconds had been the companion sound to her breath for so long that Hermione wondered what how uncomfortable she would feel with anything louder.

Darkness engulfed the entire building only seconds after. This was it; the moment she had been itching for had come. Hermione didn't know what was going to happen now, or what had been planned for this particular moment, but she knew that she didn't need to stay in this cell for much longer. Even if no one came for her, with the electricity shut off, her abilities could unlock the door and have her walking out the entrance.

As it was, she waited, just in case Cedric came to find her. It would be pointless for them to look for her only to realise that she had left on her own. It would make everything more complicated. The quicker they managed to get everything done, the less likely it was to get caught.

Quiet voices echoed through the corridor, and Hermione nearly risked a glance outside. She didn't want to be hit by one of their stunning guns. Those hurt like nothing Hermione wanted to experience again. The pain they inflicted managed to dissuade her from concentrating on anything other than the burning waves of pain that flooded her body with every twitch.

And they would shoot her down if it looked like she was attempting to escape. Hermione knew that their fingers itched to pull the trigger that would end her life. They didn't realise how much she returned the sentiment.

Her abilities didn't make her any less of a person. It didn't make any of their barbs and insults hurt any less, but people were cruel. Hermione had known that, perhaps vaguely at first, but without a doubt now. They looked for monsters everywhere but where the monsters truly lay—within themselves, and they denied its presence with everything they had.

They thrust their own inabilities on other people, using it as an excuse to hurt other people who didn't deserve it in the slightest. Hermione didn't expect wherever she would end up now to be different, but it was far better to be in contact with those kinds of people while having the ability to fight back than to constantly live in fear of their erratic behaviour.

"Hermione?"

She had been right. Cedric had navigated the darkened passageways to find her, and she felt her brain pause as she took in the strange glow that shed light on his face. It had no visible source of power, and there was no noise of a generator or anything else of the sort.

"I'm like you," he whispered, a little guiltily. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you earlier. We're taking you away from here, so that you can met other people like us. There's an entire school hidden away from them."

The familiar, angry echoes filled the hallway, and Cedric's eyes widened.

"We don't have much time. Quickly!"

Choosing between lies and freedom or hatred and imprisonment wasn't a difficult decision. If the lies got too much, Hermione was certain that she could just disappear—after she had learnt everything this supposed school was able to teach her.

Cedric's larger hand enveloped her own, and they ran. Cedric had to guide her through the maze they seemed to be in the centre of. It was clear to Hermione that he had memorised the path that led outside, and the occasional sounds of a scuffle informed Hermione that Cedric hadn't acted alone.

Keeping up with Cedric's quick pace was proving torturous, and Hermione was simply allowing herself to be dragged along by Cedric as she did nothing more than concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

It was only when Cedric came to a jarring stop, and she slammed into his back, that Hermione realised that she could see the sky. It was an angry grey today, a colour that nearly matched the walls she was familiar with.

"We should have known." There were five men blocking their path, guns pointed at the two of them. Hermione didn't think those were just the stun guns anymore. A thin brown stick slid into Cedric's hand, unnoticed by the men looming over them. Hermione eyed it with wide eyes. There had to be a reason it was hidden, and Hermione came to the slow realisation that the men who had held her there had known of what she could do all along.

Cedric was still for a long moment, and Hermione felt something warm and distinctively _Cedric_ brush against her. She looked at him questioningly, but before she was able to utter a single word, the colours warped around them, melting into a thin band that seemed to squeeze her into a too small tube.

The resounding pop that greeted them as the world settled into solidness again was lost on Hermione as she attempted to relieve her stomach of whatever contents it had managed to keep down at breakfast.

"I'm sorry. That was the only thing I could think of without risking your safety," Cedric said, cleaning up her mess and helping her stand. "But, welcome to Hogwarts, one of the last remaining safehouses for witches and wizards like you and me."

"But none of that matters to you, does it, Hermione? I think it would be more accurate to say, 'Welcome to your new home'."

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 **...I really didn't expect most of this to happen, and I kind of ended up mixing the Asylum and Orphanage AUs together =.=**


End file.
